


A Siren Song

by jokokekemato



Category: B.A.P
Genre: Alternate Universe - Siren, M/M, dae is a little brat lol, explorer!jae and siren!dae
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-07
Updated: 2015-03-09
Packaged: 2018-03-16 20:05:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3501194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jokokekemato/pseuds/jokokekemato
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the one song everyone would like to learn: the song that is irresistible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

In the middle of the ocean, a boat rocks from side to side with the waves, sails billowing out and royal flag waving in the wind.

 

Below, at the bow of the ship, a young man stands with a map in his hands, salt drops spraying in his face. He is dressed in breeches and a loose cotton shirt, sleeves rolled up on strong forearms and hair tousled with the ocean breeze. Every few minutes, he consults an intricately designed compass, constantly scanning the horizons, searching.

 

“Youngjae, sir,” a young voice calls somewhere from behind and upward, and he can already picture the deck cadet, a muscular teenage boy named Jongup, clinging to the ropes leading up to the crows nest, “do you think that we will reach the village by today?”

 

With a few flicks of his wrist, Youngjae folds the map back into a tidy square, worn paper folding until he can store it away in his pocket. He can hear the desperate hopefulness in the younger’s voice, but it is understandable: they have been sailing for a week and the novelty of waking up on a boat has long since passed. Not to mention that they ran out of fresh food somewhere along the third day and were now stuck with hardened biscuits and tough strips of meat, softened with watered down tea. The prospect of standing on solid ground and sleeping in warm beds is inviting to them all.

“I believe so. Perhaps by sun down.” If not, certainly by the next day, although that will mean another night of thin blankets, preserved dinner, and a constant dampness that pervades every single aspect of their trip.

 

“I hope they have papayas. And grilled fish.” From the soft thud behind him and the quick sound of footsteps, he is not surprised to turn around and see the shorter male staring out at the blue expanse, eyes narrowed to cut the glare of sunshine on the water’s surface. At the age of nineteen, Jongup is the youngest crew member on their ship – an apprentice of sorts, currently being groomed to become a second officer in a few years. Although Youngjae had been hesitant to allow such an inexperienced sailor onto his voyage, the boy had proved himself capable and eager, often working harder than the seasoned seafarers.

 

The hatch leading down to the sleeping quarters bangs open and from the darkness emerges Donghyuk, a seasoned navy soldier that had been hand-picked by the Throne to accompany them on their journey. He, along with seven other similar men, were there to provide muscle power and protection, in addition to assisting with whatever else he will need in order to fulfil his task of mapping out a large and uninhabited island for the purpose of building a military base there, as well as recording any known species and documenting the new ones.

 

“ _I_ hope that they have pretty girls,” the tanned male leers, and Youngjae suppresses his disgust by turning away. Perhaps their differences lay in how Youngjae was raised within palace walls and Donghyuk grew up at seaside ports, but they never truly managed to see eye to eye on a wide range of things, including how to conduct oneself when guests to a place outside of their kingdom’s sphere of influence. To him, it is an opportunity to experience new cultures and expand his knowledge on the world around him. To Donghyuk and his fellow sailors, it’s an excuse to flex their proverbial and physical muscles, getting away with things that would not be allowed back in their own country.

“Please remember that these villagers are a vital resource base as we establish ourselves on this island, and alienating them with barbaric behaviour will not be favourable for us.” Youngjae raises an eyebrow, silently challenging a reply, and he gets one.

 

“They’re uncivilized people living off of the land. They don’t even have proper weapons. We can always knock a few around if they don’t want to cooperate.” The men that have gathered behind Donghyuk laugh at that, but Youngjae stands firm. It is his expedition, he gets to set the rules.

“No. We will come in peace and show them proper respect. If you or anyone else,” he looks each of the sailors in the eye before directing his gaze back to the elder, “feel that it will be too difficult to restrain yourselves, you are free to take a fishing boat and row your way back to Royal Port.”

His announcement is met with silence and, feeling quite proud of himself, Youngjae brushes past them.

“Now, if you are finished standing around, the deck looks like it needs a good scrubbing.”

 

.   .   .

 

As predicted, a green land mass is spotted just as the sun is beginning to sink in the sky. Soon enough, Youngjae can pick out the small houses and shops that dot the shores, boats bobbing in soft waves and smoke rising in dark plumes from a large pit dug into the sand.

 

Behind him, the captain of the boat stands at the wheel, his first mate striding across the deck, shouting orders as the crew works to tie down sails, loosen ropes, prepare to be anchored. Yongguk and Himchan were quite a pair, Youngjae muses. It wasn’t exactly known how the two of them had become partners, only that one year, when Youngjae was still in school, the two of them had entered a kingdom-wide boat racing competition. It was a six-day journey: from Royal Port, through a narrow trading channel, exiting into open waters and circling back around to the port. It was generally expected that the city favourite, a full crew of military trained officers, would win. But it was not to be the case. To the intense surprise of everyone gathered at the finish line, it was an old and weathered boat that had raced to the end, Himchan and Yongguk standing at the bow, waving to the crowd. Predictably, the Kingdom had offered them a job and their own new boat.

 

Unpredictably, they had volunteered to lead the crusade, with the excuse that Jongup needed more experience.

 

Youngjae is glad that they did, truthfully. Yongguk possesses a quiet strength and will, steadfast in his ways and leading the crew without a heavy hand, and Himchan knows how to energize everyone on a bad day, keeping people in check with his sharp tongue and quick wit, in addition to supplying cooking experience that was a blessing to the team.

 

A jolt brings him back to reality and, blinking a few times, he realizes that the anchor has caught and they have come to a stop at a port dock. Already, the natives have gathered at the side to tie the ropes that Himchan and Jongup threw over onto the rusted metal rings, so that the ship wouldn’t float away, and catch whatever equipment that is thrown down.

 

Only once most of the men have jumped onto the wooden dock does Youngjae swing his legs over, using his arms to push himself off of the edge. He’s proud that he lands solidly, knees bent just the slightest, weight placed forward. When everyone else is standing behind him, they proceed into the village.

 

.   .   .

 

They spend the night, trading silks and spices and items such as pots or spearheads for food and lodging. They eat smoked fish and some sort of soft grain, sleeping in small but dry huts, on mats woven of springy grass-like material. Thankfully, Donghyuk and his men remain polite and respectful, retiring to their hut without making a single rude comment towards the young females that tended to the fires.

In the morning, they dine on raw fish and fresh fruit before setting sail again with the promise of return. The village was the closest thing to civilization that they would encounter near the island and they would need a steady supply of resources while they set up a camp.

 

By midday, as the sun blazed directly overhead, Jongup’s voice rings out.

 

“ _Land ho!”_

 

From what Youngjae can see, the island is a dismal place of rock, sand and trees. It is smaller than their kingdom, but not by much. Jagged rocks sprout from the water’s surface to the left, leading to a rocky cliff face, curving out of sight to what Youngjae can only assume to be more rocks. To the left is an expanse of sand and grass, gently sloping upward to a treeline of thick, leafy green foliage that leads into shadows.

 

The waves are gentle and it is relatively easy for them to ground, the bow of the ship sinking into soft sand. Two sailors jump into the shallows and tie the ropes to nearby trees while everyone else works to lowering the crates of food and other supplies onto the beach. Youngjae retrieves his leather bound notebook and pencil, quickly sketching what he can see from his position. In the corner of his peripheral vision, he sees a flash of gold but when he looks, it is gone.

 

“Hey, Youngjae! Are you going to stand up there all day or actually come down and see this place?” Himchan shouts at him, standing with hands on his hips and lips pursed in impatience. He is the only one who addresses him informally, although he never really minded. The first mate was, in fact, older than him.

 

With a laugh, he stows everything away into his bag, making sure that the strings are drawn tightly before he jumps into shallow waters, slogging his way to shore. Immediately, sand sticks to his feet and legs, but it feels blessedly warm and soft and solid after days on the rocking boat.

 

“Are you going to explore, Sir?” Jongup approaches with a box of oranges in his hands, shirt already missing. “Do you need someone to accompany you? We don’t know what might be on this island, after all. Snakes or quicksand or deadly insects. It is probably better if we go in pairs until we knows what is out there.”

 

“Are you giving him advice, Jongup-ah? I’m sure that he knows what he’s doing.” From their left, Himchan saunters up, juggling three figs. Before Youngjae can blink, one is tossed at him and the other at Jongup. He fumbles it, barely managing to save it from the sand, but Jongup catches the fruit with one hand.

 

“No, I wasn’t- I’m sorry if it came off like that, Sir, I was only suggesting-“ To his amusement, the confident Jongup turns into a stuttering mess under the sharp gaze of Himchan. He reaches out to pat the youngers shoulder, waving off any concerns.

 

“It’s okay, Jongup. You’re right. Would you like to accompany me?”

 

The younger looks to Himchan for permission and the man nods his assent, sending him scurrying off to quickly drop off his crate and then return. In the meantime, Youngjae unloads his bag, deciding to just take his notebook and pencil.

 

When Jongup is by his side again, they set off into the jungle. The instant that the sound of voices fades, it is replaced with nature’s own conversation. Insects buzz from every single angle, birds scream for superiority, and, in the distance, he can hear the telltale signs of water on rocks.

 

It is evident that Jongup hears it too, because his head turns towards the sound and he points towards it, silently asking if they were to head in that direction.

 

“There might be fresh water,” the cadet reasons, “so we won’t have to waste so much space bringing it back from the village.”

 

An extremely good point. Why waste bartering supplies when they could secure their own supply of water?

 

“Okay, let’s go check it out. Maybe there will be fish or waterfowl there too.”

 

The walk is relatively quick, given that they are able to pick their way through the forest and the vegetation that they cannot skirt around is easy to brush aside. Before long, they stand on the bank of a fast-moving stream, about seven feet across and around Youngjae’s waist height, he estimates.

Crouching down, he dips a single finger into the water and brings it to his lips, tentatively tasting it. Not salty. Obviously a freshwater spring, leading down into the ocean again.

 

“Is it safe to drink, Sir?” Jongup asks, sitting beside him and scooping up a handful to splash over his face and hair.

 

“I should think so. It would be far safer if we can boil the water, though, in order to get rid of any bacteria that may be in it. Too bad there are no fish or crabs.” Standing up again, Youngjae pulls out his notebook and is just about to start sketching before Jongup pulls at his shirt, pointing further down the stream.

 

“There is a pool there, Sir. That’s where they like to be, right?”

 

Covering a hand over his eyes, shading his vision, Youngjae realizes that the younger is correct. The water runs into a wide pool, shallow in the edges and gently sloping deeper. Cattails and other edible plants grow in the damp soil, and there are enough rocks to certainly hold some manner of sea creatures.

 

“Yeah, let’s go look.”

 

Together, they trek downstream until their feet begin to sink into the soft soil. The grass is springy under his feet and from where he stands, Youngjae can see ripples in the water and quick movements which signal live in the water.

 

“You see those things? That look like rocks on the bottom of the pool?” He points until Jongup nods. “Those are freshwater clams. We can collect those and eat them. Are you good at swimming?”

The look that Jongup gives him can only be described as condescending, but he answers anyway.

 

“Sir, I’m a sailor. I can swim quite well.” With that, the male wades in until his knees and then slowly breaches the surface, strongly pulling himself deeper until he is at the bottom of the pool. His legs churn, preventing him from floating upwards again, as he picks the clams from the sand.

 

In the meantime, Youngjae busies himself with uprooting some of the cattails, knowing that the roots were edible and the brown heads were good for starting fires. Pausing for a second, he details another quick sketch of the pond, making sure to include the tunnel that seemed to drain water, presumably in order to join the ocean.

 

Just as he is about to leave, he steps on something small and circular, hard and symmetrical enough that it strikes him odd. Stepping back, he scoops the object up in his hand, brushing away clumps of dirt.

It is a ring. An old and rusted ring, but a ring nevertheless. There is even a setting for a precious stone, although it had evidently fallen out. Turning it between his fingers, Youngjae frowns. The island is supposed to be uninhabited, from the information that he had been given. Slipping it into his pocket, he makes a mental note to record the strange object and returns to Jongup.

 

By the time he gets back, the boy has amassed a large pile of glistening wet clams, and even a couple of crayfish. He is sitting on a rock, drying out, and weaving what could only be a basket from long strands of grass.

 

“Good job, Jongup.” Youngjae compliments, impressed by the speed and efficiency which the younger worked. He will need to put a word of recommendation in for the male when they return to the kingdom. “By the way, did you see anything strange while you were collecting the crabs?”

“Strange?” The younger tilts his head, brow furrowing quizzically, “what do you mean strange?”

“Oh, I found something. A ring.” From his pocket, he pulls it out to show the other. “I just felt that it was strange, given the fact that we are supposed to be the only ones here.”

 

The basket complete, Jongup slides down and begins to scoop the clams and the crawfish into the basket, giving the ring a cursory glance. “We aren’t the only ones who have traded with the villagers, and they’ve probably come looking around here too. Maybe one of them dropped it. Or maybe another ship rested here for a night and then moved on. There are many possibilities, Sir.”

 

Youngjae has to admit, Jongup’s reasoning is logical. He shouldn’t jump to conclusions. Tucking the ring back into his pocket, he nods.

 

“You’re right. Let’s go. I’m sure they are all going to be eager for dinner.”

 

.   .   .

 

The next few days are simply preparations and establishing themselves on the beach. After the first night, they reallocate to a more sheltered part of the forest, where they find a rocky overhang, close by the river. They sleep on grass mats padded with blankets and set animal traps, slowly familiarizing themselves with their surroundings. Youngjae teaches each and every person which plants are safe to eat, how to orient oneself when surrounded by identical-looking trees, and how to start fires. A soft spoken man teaches them how to build shelters above their heads that keep out moisture and how to stand with their shadows behind them so that they could catch fish. Donghyuk and a few of his men manage to kill a wild boar one night, and they feast on meat.

 

Youngjae is slowly becoming used to the forest and now walks by himself, drawing experimental places where they can build various buildings and set up camps. Many of the plants and animals he is already familiar with, but there are a few insects that he has never seen in the Kingdom, and one beautifully coloured bird consistently evades his attempts to draw it.

 

They send message back to the Kingdom and expect the first ship to join them in about a week, carrying proper supplies and equipment needed to start the building.

 

One morning, before most of the other men are up, he decides to return to the pool. It isn’t his job to collect water and he hasn’t been back since the very first day.

 

The walk is cool and enjoyable as he follows a now well-trodden path. He picks blackberries and fills his pockets.

 

As he pushes the cattails from his path, he can hear what sounds to be the splashing of water and laughter. Strange; he hadn’t noticed anyone else in camp missing, although it was possible that Jongup slipped out to take a morning swim.

 

“Jongup!” he calls, stepping out in sight of the pool. And stops dead.

 

Instead of the muscular boy that he has been expecting, Youngjae is faced with a tanned, slender boy submerged underwater up to his waist. Everything about him screams delicate. Tiny shoulders, large doe eyes, plush lips and long brown hair, a slender waist and prominent hipbones. He sinks deeper into the water, up to his shoulders, once he notices Youngjae’s gaping.

 

“Who are you?” The male asks, lips pursed out just the smallest bit, like a petulant child. “What are you doing here? This is _my_ pool.”

 

Technically, it is no one’s pool, given the fact that neither had an official claim, but Youngjae is still in too much shock to rebut his comment.

 

“I’m Yoo Youngjae, an explorer for the kingdom. What are _you_ doing here? I’ve never seen you before. Where did you come from?” Carefully making his way over, Youngjae sits at the edge of the water. His pockets pull downward and he pulls the berries from his pocket to prevent from squashing them.

A hand darts out and grab most of the blackberries from him, the swimmer retreating into deeper waters with a giggle. He inspects them, as if checking to see what they were, before proceeding to popping a few into his mouth, laughing impishly again at Youngjae’s expression.

 

“ _My_ name is Daehyun. And of course you haven’t seen me before. I haven’t wanted to be seen before. It’s always that tall, ugly brute that comes. But I didn’t want to see him. I wanted to see _you_.” The rest of the berries disappear into his mouth and then the boy – Daehyun – dives under the surface of the water. When Youngjae leans forward to look for him, he pops up directly in front of him, laughing as he scrambles back in fright.

 

This man is _weird_ , Youngjae thinks, and surely they would have detected another human living nearby them?

 

“Tell me,” he regains his composure, setting his features into a blank slate, “why have you specifically searched out me? I have only been here once.”

 

A hand shoots out and he yelps in shock. Daehyun’s skin is wet and cold and almost slimy, but strong enough that he cannot pull himself free and is instead dragged forward, much to his terror, until he is on his knees in front of the water, struggling to remain upright and not fall into the pool.

 

“You took my ring!” The grip tightens and Daehyun’s expression turns from mischievous to downright frightening, lips pulled back over his teeth. “And I want it back. You _stole_ it. It’s _mine_.”

 

Youngjae’s hand is shaking as he reaches into his pocket, pulling the desired item out and holding it out to the male. Immediately, the man’s face softens and he plucks it from his palm, letting him go in favour of submerging the jewelry and rubbing it vigorously until all the dirt is removed, leaving it shining and clean. Daehyun slips it onto his finger, admiring it for a second before turning back to him.

 

“Thanks! You’re not that bad, I suppose. Come back tomorrow. And bring more of those berries. I like them.” Before Youngjae can recuperate, the swimmer dives under the water, swimming towards the unknown blackness at the bottom of the pool and disappearing before his eyes.

 

Rubbing at his wrist, Youngjae feels something slightly hard and cold on his finger and raises it to the light, barely able to understand what had just happened.

 

It is a scale.

 

.   .   .

 

The evening of his strange encounter, they take a small boat back to the village, intending to barter for grain and water skins. He had informed his companions on his meeting with Daehyun but few believe him. Even Jongup had looked sceptical, and he had no evidence other than the tiny, greyish scale and the absence of his ring.

 

Youngjae is lost in his thoughts even as they eat, sitting at a low table with the village elders and families, and it is apparently evident.

 

“What is wrong?” A little boy to his left asks, tugging on his finger to get his attention. He is a sweet child named Junhong, curious and eager to befriend them.

 

Donghyuk overhears and, always eager to humiliate Youngjae, speaks up.

 

“Sir Youngjae fancies that he saw a boy swimming in a pool today. Someone named Daehyun. He is probably too weak to handle the sun well.” Instead of the expected reaction, the table turns quiet and Youngjae can see the elders exchanging glances across from him. It is Junhong that is the first to speak up.

 

“Daehyun! He is your friend too? Can you give him something for me?” He runs off before he can respond.

 

“Wait, this…boy is real? This Daehyun? He is an actual person?” Himchan speaks up assertively, calling attention towards him. In the following silence, Youngjae thinks that they will not answer, but a woman, old and wrinkled, finally speaks.

 

“Yes, we know Daehyun. He lives on the island that you are on, but it is rare that he will show himself.”

“Does he live by himself?” Yongguk asks, raising a single brow. “Why is he eager to remain hidden?”

This time, no one answers and a young man forcibly changes the subject, leaving them all in confusion. Youngjae does not miss the way that their expressions flicker with fear, each casting long side glances at each other, some leading young children away from the table.

 

When the time comes to go, Youngjae looks for Junhong, who has not returned. A few seconds later, he spots him running over the sand, pudgy fist clenched around what looks to be a string of shells, glimmering in the light of the fire.

 

“This is for Daehyun,” the boy says proudly, pushing it into Youngjae’s hands, “please give it to him when you see him next. And tell him it is from Junhong. And that Junhong wants to play again soon.”

The rest of the natives have drawn back, up the beach, and Junhong’s mother comes up to clasp him close. Before Youngjae can step away to join his crew members, she grips his wrist and speaks to him in a low, harsh whisper.

 

“Daehyun is dangerous. He’s very protective over the island. Do not do anything that will make him angry.”

 

“What? Why is he so dangerous? He is just one-“ Before Youngjae can finish his stuttered sentences, an elder calls out and she sweeps Junhong to her chest, casting a last, fearful glance at him before walking away. She throws a last statement over her shoulder.

 

“ _Daehyun isn’t who you think he is._ ”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the one song everyone would like to learn: the song that is irresistible.

The following morning, Youngjae sets off at the same time to meet Daehyun. His attendance is greatly discouraged by Himchan, who insists that they should heed the villager’s words and attempt to avoid him. Jongup points out that he had nearly been dragged under the water by the unnaturally strong boy.

He takes it into consideration. Youngjae is cautious and returning to the pool is asking for trouble, but Junhong’s gift weighs heavy in his pocket and, moreover, he is eager for a chance to speak to the male again.

Yongguk remains quiet through everything, but speaks up just before he is set to depart.

“Do not anger him. I shall send men if you do not return within the hour.”

With a grateful nod, Youngjae grabs a grass woven basket and follows the path towards the pool. He stops in order to harvest the blackberry bush of its fruit, filling up the bowl halfway with only the biggest, ripest pieces until his fingers are stained purple.

Trepidation fills him the closer he gets to the pond. It’s foolish of him to come without a guard or a weapon to defend himself, although he instinctively feels that a spear will not do much damage against Daehyun.

From a distance, he can tell that Daehyun is waiting for him. Not by the sounds of splashing water, which had alerted him the previous day, but singing.

Singing, perhaps, isn’t the proper word. _Belting_ is far more suited for the enthusiastic yelling that he can hear. From the almost incoherent words, Youngjae surmises that it is a rather original and energetic rendition of Shakespeare’s _Hamlet_.

Daehyun is at Ophelia’s soliloquy and is just hitting the crescendo, any semblance of pitch and rhythm going straight out the window. He screams out line after line overly dramatically.

If Youngjae isn’t so amused, he would attempt to draw the flock of red birds that fly overhead.

He isn’t exactly sure what to expect when he pushes through the cattails.

The boy is half draped over a rock, one hand waving in the air as the other holds a tattered book. Daehyun has made himself a flower crown from a patch of daisies that grow near the water, and smeared his torso and arms with what looks like reddish clay. The final result is crude and childish, but Youngjae admits that it is cute. In a strange way.

He coughs to draw attention towards himself and Daehyun twists to look, a sweet smile breaking onto his face when he spots him.

“Youngjae, you came!” The boy pushes himself from the rock and swims over, holding the book above water. For a second, he is dazed by Daehyun’s beauty. His eyes are flecked of gold and green, rimmed with dark lashes. His lips, full and red, stretch over pearly teeth and he has tiny, pointy canines that look, strangely enough, to be serrated. Days in the sun has left his skin smooth and tanned, muscles flexing as he hauls himself up to Youngjae’s height until they are almost nose to nose. “Did you bring the berries for me, Youngjae?”

Addressed, he snaps from his mesmerisation and passes the basket, settling to sit on the shore with his knees drawn to his chest. With a sound that he can only describe as a squeal of pleasure, Daehyun swims to the middle of the pond and proceeds to wash the berries, swirling them around in the water until he deems them clean.

“Why don’t you come out of the water?” Youngjae asks, watching him. It occurs to him that he has never seen below Daehyun’s waist, and the knowledge bothers him more than it should.

“Why don’t you come into the water?” Daehyun counters, spinning in a circle. “It’s lovely. Aren’t you too warm?”

The sun is beginning to peak in the sky and he admits that he is rather warm, but he is hesitant to step into the depths. The boy makes quick work of the berries, eating one after another without a pause. He’s still thinking when something small and wet hits him in the forehead; he realizes that Daehyun has thrown a blackberry at him.

“Hey!” He protests, smacking away another that comes pelting at his shoulder. A third hits his shirt, leaving him to scramble for cover behind a rock. Daehyun cackles. “Stop throwing them at me!”

“You’re supposed to open your mouth and I’m supposed to throw them so that you can eat it!” Another comes flying over his head. Youngjae can hear the boy laughing even harder, berries whizzing over his head with increasing speed.

“Can’t I just eat it with my hands?” He yells back. With a change of strategy, they drop down at him from an arc, resulting in him being hit by quite a few more before they stop completely. Chancing a peek up, he finds that he is waiting with an arm cocked back, a handful of berries poised to be thrown. “Wait, wait!” His hands raise in surrender, “I’ll let you _feed_ me. With your hands. Not throwing them!”

A pause and then Daehyun lowers his hand, giggling as he pops another into his mouth. “You should see your face,” the boy gloats, “you look _terrified_.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Crawling from his hiding spot, Youngjae settles at the shore. He sits cross legged, within arm distance away. “Oh, and – a boy gave me something yesterday, for you. Junhong?” From his pocket, he pulls out the necklace. Daehyun immediately takes it and loops it around his neck, preening in the reflection of the water.

“You know Junhong? He is great. I saved him when he was younger. He floated out into the ocean on his little boat and got pulled out by the tide. So I brought him back. And now we play together. He always makes me things.” A berry is presented to his lips and Youngjae takes it between his teeth, biting down.

“How do you get there? Do you have a boat?” He asks. The neighboring island wasn’t close enough to swim – even for the seasoned sailors.

“Nope. I swim there. I’ve been doing it for a really long time so it’s easier for me. And it takes longer when you’re boating, because you have to go around the marshes and the trees and stuff. I can just swim through them.” Fed another berry, Daehyun eats one for himself. One for him, one for Daehyun. It occurs to him that Daehyun is very young – or at least, very childish.

“Sir? What are you doing?” Youngjae turns, startled by the new arrival. Behind him, Jongup stands in front of the cattails with a spear clutched in both hands.

“Jongup,” he raises a single brow, taking notice of the way Daehyun slides back, “what are you doing?”

“It’s been a while so I was beginning to worry about you. I thought that I should come to check on you.” Torn between being enraged and grateful, he opens and closes his mouth a few times. Daehyun saves him the trouble of responding with a splash of cold water to his face.

“You interrupted us!” Another wave of water is sent in Jongup’s direction, liberally dousing him from head to toe. “Go away, you- you stinky frog!”

Despite his protests and Jongup’s loud curses, they are both drenched by Daehyun. There is even a bit of seaweed thrown at him and a clump of mud at Jongup. By the end, both are dripping wet and the smaller has retreated to the middle of the pond, glaring balefully at Jongup.

“Really, Daehyun?” His hand comes up to wipe his face and slick his hair back from his eyes.

“I don’t _like_ him. Make him go away. He’s _stinky_.” Youngjae wonders if Daehyun’s level of insults have graduated beyond elementary level. The cadet certainly gave him enough examples with the amount of expletives that had come out of his mouth.

“Sir, we should go,” Jongup cautions, coming to stand beside him with the spear pointing towards the water. “The others will be looking for us soon.”

It is true; his hour is almost up and with Jongup missing too, it will surely raise suspicions. However, he cannot bear the thought of leaving the sulking boy alone just yet.

“Go first, Jongup. I’ll be coming in five minutes. Any more and you come look for me again.” Jongup looks as if he will protest. Daehyun gives him another generous splash of water, swimming to the edge to rest his elbows on shore.

“Yeah,” he childishly sticking out his tongue at the cadet, “go first. I wanna play with Youngjae for five more minutes.”

Jongup’s teeth grind together. With a final glare towards Daehyun he stomps off, shouldering his way through the cattails. When they are alone, Youngjae turns back to the pool.

“You didn’t have to splash us, you know. He only came to make sure that I was safe.” Daehyun reaches out to link their fingers. His skin is wet and slimy. It reminds him of the time he caught a frog with his bare hands, although Daehyun’s skin is far more pleasant to look at.  

“But I wanted you to play with you.” His voices trembles, as if he’s about to cry. “And five minutes isn’t going to be enough for us to play, right? We can’t play in just five minutes.”

Hesitantly, Youngjae brushes hair from the others forehead, tucking it behind his ear. Daehyun makes a noise of content in his throat, eyes sliding shut. He nuzzles against his fingers.

“We can play tomorrow then, Daehyun.” His finger traces down the strong slope of the males nose, ending with a short and gentle tap to the tip. The other scrunches his face up in response.

“Okay. Do you want to be my friend, Youngjae?” Daehyun asks, fingers dabbling in the water. With a few twists of his wrist, he creates a tiny whirlpool which dissipates within seconds.

“Your friend?” It surprises him, because Daehyun surely can’t believe that he will stay on the island forever. His orders are to scout out the best place for an army base, assess any damages, wait for the army and builders to arrive and go home. A few months at best. A year at most. Despite this, he cannot turn down the hopeful offer. “Of course, I’ll be your friend.”

The boy plucks the daisy crown from his hair and places it on Youngjae’s, fussing until he is satisfied.

“There. This is my gift to you. Now you are my friend, okay?” His cheek is patted by a clammy hand, “and friends tell friends secrets, right?”

“Of course,” he replies, mystified as to what secret Daehyun might be hiding, “do you want to tell me a secret?”

Instead of answering, the male hauls himself further up shore and waits, anticipating Youngjae’s reaction.

At first, he cannot understand what secret Daehyun is meant to be revealing. Soon after, his eyes travel down smooth skin, to the point where bronzed flesh melts into shimmering scales. The thing – he identifies it as a tail – continues down where his legs _should_ be.  At the bottom, it tapers and flares into a wide triangle shape of his fin, notched down the centre. His scales are black and sleek at his hipbones, eventually fading into a warm, gold colour that is mirrored by the tiny row of fins that follow the curve of his spine.

“You have a tail.” He finally says, numb.

“Of course.” Daehyun looks incredulous, like having a tail is a common feature. “I _am_ a siren, after all.”

 

.   .   .

 

As he leaves, he runs into Jongup, trailed by Himchan and a few other battle hardened men. They carry an array of weapons in their hands, ranging from spears to nets to guns. He is nearly stabbed by a jumpy sailor who trusts at his chest the instant that he steps onto the path.

Luckily, Jongup stops him with a shout of panic.

The walk back to camp is used to debrief the men, and he is forced to repeat the story to the remainder of the sailors when they get back. There is a clear divide as to what they should do about the new information; some want to simply leave Daehyun alone, others insist that he is a threat that must be eliminated.

The general consensus is that they should wait until their higher ups arrive before deciding anything. Their job is to prepare the island for the new ships arrival, not to deal with unexpected complications.

With little work to be done, Himchan and Yongguk leads the group down to the beach to feast on fruit and laze in the sun.

The sand is warm. Youngjae stretches out on the ground, securing himself his own spot by the water, feet wetted as the water comes in and out. Yongguk teaches Jongup how to tie different knots with a length of rope, and a few men wrestle each other in a large, crude circle. He watches as Donghyuk and another grip at each other’s shoulders and, pushing and shifting, attempt to maneuver their opponent onto their back or out of the ring. With a quick twist of his leg, Donghyuk sweeps the males legs from under him and takes him to the ground, holding him there for a second before helping him up.

A distinct crunch fills his ears. He turns to see Himchan drop down beside him, chewing on a bite of pear.

“Are you going to try and protect Daehyun if the officials decide to try and kill him?”

“I think Daehyun could prove to be dangerous, if we manage to provoke him. He knows the island well and has already accumulated a reputation with the villagers. He is a siren, after all.” His finger traces the words _siren_ into the sand and it is washed away by the incoming tide a second later.

Himchan gives him a look. “You didn’t answer the question.”

“Yes, I think I would. But I have a feeling that Daehyun is perfectly capable of taking care of himself.”

 

.   .   .

 

The coming morning, they are awoken to the sound of men’s shouts. Youngjae emerges from his bed with tousled hair and crumpled clothing, rubbing sleep from his eyes. The Kingdom officials look out of place with their ironed pants, shiny shoes and heavy coats, many still carrying embellishments that mark them as higher ranked. Behind them, he can see lines of men standing in formation.

Stepping forward, he extends his hand to the leader, whose name he cannot be bothered to remember, and catches the look of disgust. His hand is shaken gingerly.

“Hello, Captain,” he says smoothly. The man is sweating in his multiple layers, “I’m glad that you’ve made it here safely. I trust it was a pleasant journey?”

The elder scowls, “pleasant isn’t the right word to describe it. Hellishly hot and those…barbarians on the other island couldn’t even offer warm water to bathe in.”

It will be a long few months, Youngjae thinks.

With the rest of the men, work truly begins. Youngjae explains his ideas to the architects and they input their own advice. There is a wide valley, deeper in the woods, which could provide natural protection. The beach can be transformed into a port, easily defended from either sides by the rocky landscape of the cliff face and the dense jungle. A beautifully grassy plateau will serve as a luxury house for any diplomats or royals that may come to survey the area.

In the distance, he hears a tree fall and looks up to see it do so, falling almost precisely on the X laid out in the sand. The wood is far too springy and thin to be of any use for anything other than beds, but the tiny clearing that he and his crew members had set up camp in will not be large enough to host the much larger number. They will need to clear an area before beginning to build, and that means that much of the forest that they are currently standing in will be gone in a matter of months.

Later in the night, he is summoned by the Captain, along with Yongguk, Himchan and Donghyuk. They board the ship and sit in the captain’s quarters, drinking expensive wine from delicate glasses. After plain water and raw fish, the rich drink tastes extremely sour on his tongue. Youngjae manages to take a few sips. Himchan struggles to swallow and Donghyuk discreetly spits it out.

“I’m going to make this quick,” the captain speaks, polishing off his glass and pouring himself another generous dose, “because it has been a long voyage and I am very tired.”

From what Youngjae has heard, the Captain is a high ranked, wealth born aristocrat that refused to do any physical labour and often demeaned his crew, asking for unreasonable luxuries such as hot bathing water, fragranced soap, and multiple course meals.

“Are there any threats that you feel may hinder the completion of this project?” Feeling three pairs of eyes turn towards him, Youngjae fiddles with his fingers under the table. Himchan, Yongguk and Donghyuk seem unwilling to breach the topic of Daehyun, and appear to be waiting for him to speak.

The young aristocrat’s eyes follow their gazes and rests on him, impatiently tapping his fingers against the polished mahogany wood. He is three quarters through his second glass.

“Well? Is there or isn’t there?”

“There is a siren who inhabits part of this island. However, I do not feel that he will be a threat if we leave him alone and give him no reason to attack.” Lifting his glass to his lips, Youngjae takes a slow sip, as if doing so will delay a response.

“A siren, huh? I’ve heard of them. Pretty useless creatures. If this siren tries anything, we will just kill it. Simple as that. Anything else?” Youngjae’s sharp response is cut off by a pinch to his side and he turns to glare at Himchan, who stares straight ahead.

A chair scrapes back. Yongguk gets to his feet without having touched the wine. In unison, he rises with the others.

“None, Sir.” With an incline of his head, he exits into the warm night, leaving the captain to drain down the rest of his drink.

 

.   .   .

 

He doesn’t see Daehyun for the next few days, although he wakes up increasingly early in order to visit the pool before the work of the day began.

The serene landscape has been trampled and the water dirtied. Many of the plants have been ripped up, strewn across muddy ground, and any animal life that may have been around were harvested in order to feed the fluctuation of mouths.

One morning, he finds a delicately built daisy crown laying by the water edge, and he smiles before tucks it into his pocket and returning to the arduous work ahead.

Building is slow, and the forest too dense to start work immediately. There are a variety of things that they must first accomplish before they can even hope of setting up foundations.

When night comes, he stands on the crest of a hill, wind rushing through his hair and setting sun warm against his face. A pair of men stand thigh deep in the water, holding a thinly woven net bunched in their hands. Nearby, a large school of silver fish dart through the water in a clump, twisting and turning back and forth. By some unspoken signal, they throw the net, encompassing the entire group. The waters begin to roil as the panicked fish attempt to jump from their confines. A few do manage to escape, but both men pull on their ends of the rope and the net comes to a close.

The men on shore cheer. They will eat well tonight.

Just as Youngjae turns away, intending to walk by the pool again, he hears shouts of alarm.

It takes him a second to comprehend the scene. The fishermen are being dragged back out to sea by some unknown force, waves slapping at their waists and then chests. A head pops up from the water, hair plastered all over, both hands locked onto the other side of the net and tugging viciously.

“Let go!” It’s Daehyun, of course, slowly but steadily yanking the panicked men deeper into the depths. One loses his balance and goes under, releasing his end of the net. He emerges a second later, spluttering. With half of the force gone, the siren gives another harsh tug, ripping the rope free of the man’s grip. In a flurry of silver movement, all the fish pour from the opening and disappear into deeper waters.

“Daehyun!” Without conscious movement, he’s running down the hill, pushing armed soldiers and bewildered sailors out of his way. As he reaches shore, the two bedraggled and soaked fishermen clamber onto the beach and are instantly received with towels.

In a swift movement, the siren rips the webbing in half, and then quarters, and hurls them at the officers brave enough to wade into the ocean.

“He’s a feisty one, isn’t he?” Himchan comments, appearing at his shoulder. He doesn’t seem too concerned by the chaos that Daehyun is wrecking; in fact, he seems amused.

“That net was made of the finest, strongest material. It’s designed to hold hundreds of pounds, but he just ripped it apart like it was nothing.” As usual, Jongup is right beside the elder. Both of them seem even more unkempt than usual, and Youngjae is pretty sure he can see what appears to be a love bite peeking out from underneath Himchan’s collar.

There isn’t enough time to tease the two. The captain arrives with a group of six armed men behind him.

“What is the meaning of this?” The aristocrat bellows, hands waving wildly. His face is an alarming shade of red, and Youngjae isn’t sure if it’s because of the heavy stench of wine on him or the stress of the moment.

“Sir,” he replies calmly, “it seems that the siren that we talked about is unhappy with us fishing.”

Jongup laughs at that, a sharp barking noise that’s quickly cut off by Himchan’s elbow to his stomach.

The captain sets his lips into a hard line and marches up to the edge of the water.

“Hey, you!” The call attracts the attention of Daehyun, who spins towards them.

“What?” For a boy facing two hundred armed men, he manages to look haughty with his nose in the air, arms crossed over his chest and lips pursed. Youngjae thinks it’s cute, but it’s evident that the others are not as entertained.

“You attacked our men. That is an act of war, by the Kingdom’s laws.”

Daehyun makes a very rude gesture with his hand, sticking his tongue out and crossing his eyes. “I don’t care. You were going to kill my friends. You can’t do that. I say you can’t. So you can’t.”

He can see the captain’s face flush, and Jongup’s sniggering doesn’t help the situation much. With an exaggerated sigh, the male pulls a small bag from his belt and shakes it. Coins jangle.

“Listen, kid. We’re on very _important_ business and we need to feed our men. So how much will it take?” Into his hand, he shakes out three gold pieces and offers them to Daehyun, who looks unimpressed.

“The whole bag,” the younger demands.

“Ten pieces.”

“Twenty.”

“Twelve.”

“Thirty.”

“Fifteen.”

“Forty!”

“…fine. Twenty.”

Even Youngjae can’t help but laugh. One of the officers counts out twenty gold pieces and puts them in a spare cloth bag. It is tossed to Daehyun, who catches it and jingles it, apparently satisfied with the sound.

“So, in exchange for twenty gold pieces, you agree to not meddle in our affairs anymore?”

Daehyun giggles, “No, these pieces are an apology for trying to take the fish.” All of a sudden, the smile drops from his face and the sirens eyes flash. He swims closer to shore, until Youngjae can see each crystalline droplet that clings to his tan skin.

The childish presence drops, and he sees the creature that sailors pray that they will never meet; a cold, dangerous being capable of killing all of them very easily. Youngjae’s slightly terrified. “You don’t belong here. You are destroying the forest and scaring away the animals, and I won’t allow that. Go back home.”

The tall man scoffs. “You are but one boy against the might of the Kingdom. You may be a siren, but you cannot fight a thousand men.” With a twitch of his fingers, the five men behind him raise their guns and fire at the siren.

Youngjae gasps, but his worry is unfounded. Daehyun dives before the bullets break the surface and emerges with all five shells in his hand. He adds them to the now soaked bag containing his gold.

“I’ll give you my own warning, then,” all of a sudden, the wind picks up and whips at them, waves crashing hard against the rocks, “the next ship that tries to dock will not make it to shore. All the men shall die. I suggest you make contact and tell them to turn around.”

A strong gale lashes from every side, kicking up sand and water. Youngjae buries his face in his hands to shield it from the sting, and when he looks up again, Daehyun is gone.

Jongup laughs, helping Himchan back to his feet. “That went well, didn’t it?”

 

.   .   .

 

Contrary to the advice given by Yongguk, a few high commanding officers and himself, the captain refuses to consider Daehyun’s warning. The night passes by and, in the morning, the entire camp carries the heavy weight of apprehension.

“You will doom the entire crew on that boat! Do you think a siren is one to make idle threats?” From the captain’s quarters, Himchan’s voice rises above the chatter of birds. He has been in there since daybreak, arguing vehemently with the leader and his men. Jongup is inside as well, and Youngjae can picture the two of them; the elder waving his hands around angrily to express his points, the shorter male standing just behind his shoulder, arms crossed and shoulders drawn back.

The door bangs open and Himchan storms out, the cadet hot on his heels. An officer on duty nearby attempts to grab the second in command, but Jongup gives him a hard enough shove to send him reeling into a tree.

“Youngjae, you _must_ talk to him. The spoiled wretch won’t listen to me. If he had enough sense, he would get his head out of his ass, before I shove my-“ Yongguk cuts him off with a hand on his shoulder, fingers curling around the tense muscle.

“Insulting and threatening him won’t help your case, Himchan.” Only once Himchan makes a visible effort to calm down does he release him.

Himchan scoffs, “well? What are we going to do then? Just let the men die? I’ve never talked to the siren personally, but he looked pretty angry yesterday. Not to mention that those stupid fools shot at him.”

Before the two of them could descend into an argument, Youngjae interrupts, “I’ll talk to him. Himchan is right; we cannot allow the meaningless deaths of hundreds just to sate the captain’s pride. Surely, once the Kingdom becomes aware of the problems that we face, they will reconsider the navy base.”

With that, he makes his way towards the small cabin. The guard stationed at the door announces him and after a few seconds of silence, he is admitted.

Inside, the air is heavy and thick with expensive cigar smoke. Five men sit around a table, a carafe passing from hand to hand. They are just as dirty and grimy as everyone else, but Youngjae notes with disgust that they are eating bread slathered in honey and preserved jams with cups of coffee – luxuries denied to the rest of the men, who’re under the impression that the supplies had run out a long time ago.

“Are you here to talk about that damned siren?” The look of patronization that he is given sets his teeth on edge. One of the men dressed in expensive silks guffaws, shoving a handful of candied meats into his mouth. Quieting his scathing retort, Youngjae nods.

“Sir, it is imperative that we contact the naval base and warn them of the danger. I have personally spoken with Daehyun and although he does not seem to present much of a threat, he is dangerous. Sirens do not have such a reputation for nothing. The villagers warned us of him when we first arrived, and I believe that-“

“Bah, those villagers are nothing more than frightened barbarians. They fear the siren because they cannot defend against him. If he thinks that he can just threaten us and we will back down, he’s in for something else.” Leaning backwards in his chair, the captain rubs his palms together. The many gold rings decorating his fingers twinkle in the sunlight filtering from behind him. “I’ve already contacted the ship. They will have their cannons prepped and at ready before they reach harbour. If this insolent creature thinks that he can oppose me, he is wrong.”

The idea of the ship firing rounds at the small boy makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and his hands clench into fists.

“We don’t know how many more sirens may inhabit the island and the areas nearby. Killing one of them could provoke a fight, and they are far more experienced with the terrain. Perhaps we could contact the Kingdom and suggest that we find a more suitable island to set up base.” From the subtle nodding he can see from his peripheral vision, he surmises that at least _someone_ agrees with him. Unfortunately, it is not the captain.

The man stands with a drunken flourish, “I shall run _my_ expedition the way that _I_ see fit. You and your crew seem to think that because you came first, you have superior knowledge on how to proceed. I would like to remind you that I am the captain, not you. My men shall escort you out and, if I hear another word of dissent, I shall have you and your men whipped.”

Sunlight floods the darkened room and he’s guided out. Himchan looks up hopefully, but the discouraging shake of his head sets the elders lips into a thin purse.

The cabin door slams shut and the sound of boisterous laughter starts again.

 

.   .   .

 

Mid-afternoon, a sentinel spots the familiar colours of their Kingdom flag. The news ripples through the camp grounds; everyone abandons their work and congregates at the plateau overlooking the water.

The sun beats down, offset by the cool breeze coming off of the sea. Youngjae has a clear view, standing near the edge of the cliff, as the ship sails closer.

“Doesn’t seem like your siren is showing up, huh?” Foul, alcohol scented breath hits his face. It takes all his will power not to screw up his face and turn away, meeting the captain’s sneer with a cool gaze.

“Wouldn’t that be lucky? You wouldn’t have to explain how you lost an entire crew to the King.”

The others face twists in anger, “or he’s realized his place and decided not to try a futile attack.”

One of the men suddenly shouts, “there he is! The siren, he’s there!”

Argument forgotten, he turns back to the source of chaos.

A sleek, fast moving figure cuts through the water just below the surface. Sunlight refracts off of the golden scales on his back and tail, drawing the attention of a guard on the boat, who shouts an alarm. The sailors abandon their stations and scramble to collect their weapons, but Daehyun has already disappeared with a flick of his tail, diving into deeper waters.

“What does he think he’s going to do, tip the boat over to get to the men?” The scornful laugh grates against his ears, but the men around him don’t look as at ease.

“Are you stupid?” Jongup appears by his side, all sense of politeness gone as he scowls at the captain.

“What did you just call me?”

“Stupid. Do you really think that Daehyun is going to _tip over_ the boat?” The cadet pauses, and then speaks slowly, as if speaking to a mentally handicapped person. “What are sirens best known for?”

“Singing,” Youngjae whispers. The men on the boat line the perimeter, guns loaded and pointing towards the water. They are sitting ducks, out in the sea, in Daehyun’s territory.

“Right. Sirens sing. Daehyun doesn’t _need_ to tip over the boat to get to the men. The men will come to him.”

The singing starts immediately after. The siren reappears a short distance from the ship, a tiny speck in the expanse of blue. From where he stands, Youngjae is too far to hear the exact words, but he’s caught up in the sudden urge to follow the alluring melody. Every part of him yearns to hear more, to move closer, to join Daehyun.

A sharp kick to his knee jolts him, but breaks the spell. Jongup glares at him, hands covering his ears, and Youngjae hurries to do the same.

It is mayhem on the boat. Sailors are throwing away their weapons and jumping into the water, swimming towards the siren, who slowly leads them away into deeper sea. The first to reach him is received with open arms. Daehyun kisses him, chaste and sweet, before grabbing him by the back of the neck and shoving him under.

He doesn’t stand a chance. And neither do the others, who gather around the boy.

It’s obvious to see who are weak swimmers; they tire quickly. Their heads slip under the surface and never remerge.  

Hands covering his ears, Youngjae is helpless to do anything except watch. The siren dives deep and the men follow, one by one, leaving rippling circles as their only traces.

A minute passes. And another. A third. How long could someone hold their breath for? A fourth and then Daehyun pops up again. He’s alone. Youngjae wonders how many bodies lie beneath the surface. A hundred? Two hundred? Certainly more than necessary.

He’s pushed aside by Jongup, who storms over to the captain.

“This is your fault!” Muscles flexing, Jongup grabs the man by his shirt and shakes him. Removing his hands from his ears, Youngjae hears the sound of teeth clacking together as the elder is viciously rattled. The combined force of two guards isn’t not enough to pull him off; it takes a sharp word from Himchan to disengage him and, even then, the cadet continues to scream insults. “You saw that? You saw what happened with those men? That’s _your_ fault. You did that! You sentenced them to their deaths!”

Letting the shouts fade into the background, Youngjae looks back to where Daehyun was. The siren is still there, staring at them. Then, with a flick of his tail, the siren disappears.


End file.
